


Close the Soul's window

by GrumpyTsundereShipper



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Infatuated Spain, M/M, Oblivious England, Slightly badass England, Tsundere Lovino, Yaoi, possessive alfred, slow burner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-05-31 22:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15129440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyTsundereShipper/pseuds/GrumpyTsundereShipper
Summary: Hetalia University houses many students, some bought their way into the university's prestigious ranks, others gained scholarships, others just appear on the premises not even being admitted to the University.Alfred is a popular jock whose eyes cannot help but follow a cute and introverted blond with warm green eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction so sorry if it turns out awfully. I have written another book though (no comment). I've never done romance either. Don't steal my work etc etc. 
> 
> Love, Red

Not that Al minded being kicked out of his own dorm at... what? 2 in the morning, but he did have one or two complaints. The blond American found himself following the same beat he did every time he was told politely by his very French roommate: 'mes ami! I pulled again, you can stay if you want to join?'   As much as Al did appreciate the pre warning call, the suggestive question gave him goosebumps. 

 

Alfred was sure one day he wouldn't be warned prior. 

 

As he trudged down the shaded hallway, passing the classrooms, he approached the library. This inbuilt clockwork forced the tired American to turn his eyes towards the subtle glow coming from the doors. Now, Al did not read, and would never try, but that didn't mean he wasn't interested in the library... or the student librarian assistant who stayed after hours. Al is a proud non-snooper, he does not snoop (so he tells himself), but there was nothing more intriguing than seeing another student willingly awake at 2 o'clock in the morning to not get drunk or high.

 

No, this is Arthur Kirkland after all. Alfred had never seen the Englishman at any parties, even his own (which he had indirectly invited Arthur to, out of pity of course), instead he had been insulted to find Arthur still at the library even when he was meant to be at his party!

 

No, he did not go to check. That would be snooping. And the hero, Alfred F Jones does not snoop, that is not heroic. 

 

And it was only coincidence that Al knew that Arthur, aptly nicknamed England, only had one friend, a terrifying Italian who looked as though he was constantly armed but had only avoided homicide so far by scaring off anyone in a 40 mile radius with just a look. Squinting against the glow radiating from the library, Al could make out Arthur, head tucked into a book. As a proud,  _very_ proud American, Alfred did not tolerate malingering and would have usually busted into the library; announcing loudly (obnoxiously) that if Arthur was going to stay overtime he had better get his work done. 

 

He had been fighting this urge for weeks and it was always instantly quelled when he squinted through his glasses enough. Arthur's porcelain face washed in the soft golden light, contrasting the darkness alluringly. Alfred hurried on past the library, before he could see Arthur's head move to the sound of footsteps. 

 

Thats alright, Alfred consoled himself, he'll never properly meet the Englishman anyways


	2. First impressions

They were Emerald. No, jade? These were the only thoughts running through Alfred's head at he stared into the eyes of Arthur Kirkland. The flaming eyes of a student who had just had a rugby ball to the head. 

 

It was a Wednesday, the morning after a colossal party which had most likely damaged about 30 students' livers irreparably. Antonio Carriedo, one of Al's many friends, had dragged all of his extremely hungover friends outside to toss around a rugby ball. 

Although most complained, this is Antonio. Now if Antonio isn't the epitome for sunshine and happiness, the moon is purple. No one could say no to the bouncing Spaniard and dotingly slithered out from their cave like dorms to hiss in the sun. Antonio was a monster, having drunk twice the amount any of his friends had drunk, was grinning and laughing (unlike the others who required mediciation strong enough to kill a horse just to move). 

So, whilst Alfred, Antonio, Ludwig and Gilbert began to toss the annoyingly weird shaped ball around the open field next to the main Uni building, a few people settled in the shade of the trees nearby. 

It had not been Arthur's initial choice, but Roderick had insisted that the fresh air was necessary for his musical 'inspiration'. This of course, had ticked off the short tempered student, but he accepted the relocation, he himself had been mocked previously by his brothers for being a 'vampire'. Now, if anything took priority, it was destroying his brothers and that started with wiping off their irritating smug smirks because of his his paleness. 

He couldn't wait till he showed them, even if it meant potentially catching skin cancer or cooking himself alive. 

 

Lovino had been surprisingly calm about the transition from the stuffy library to the outdoors, or maybe he was just traumatised. Thus Arthur did not observe Romanos descreet glances out to the centre of the field where a few second years, like themselves, were throwing around a rugby ball. 

Only 10 minutes into the pleasant reading session did it erupt in chaos and pain. Arthur had not seen the ball hurtling towards him, and the warnings were far too late for him to protect himself.

 

The ball sent Arthur's head straight into the ground. Arthur's fury skyrocketed with the pain shooting in the side of his head, the book tumbling out of his hands and tragically losing the page.

Alfred almost materialised out of no where, ready to beg for forgiveness to whoever he had assaulted, instead coming to the realisation that it had been Arthur once blue met blazing green. 

"You bloody idiot! How could you even hit me? I'm behind 3 trees." Arthur's accent thickened considerably as he blinked furiously, trying to clear the fogginess in his vision, glaring directly into Alfred's blues. 

Although Arthur, even standing was only 5,6' and Alfred 6,3' , the Englishman managed to be intimidating enough that it shocked the American out of his trance. 

Alfred just stood. Staring. Blinking owlishly, as if even he couldn't believe what just happened. 

"Hey, moron, you just going to stand there?" Alfred immediately stuttered a reply,  
"Oh. No, I-" He couldn't help it, his Arthur was staring up at him with those massive emerald hues, and with the sweeping dark lashes, he couldn't help but admit it gave dimensions to his eyes. The eyebrows above, usually considered to be unattractive, unfortunately only helped to frame his eyes. Drawing more attention. 

Damn him and his very un.... attractive eyes

"Look, let's just go Kirkland, the Frenchie is waiting for us and I've already finished my composition." The prententious pianist ruined it all, offering an alternative for the Englishman than to stay and scold Alfred more. This would have made Alfred scowl, if he hadn't been too busy trying to formulate an answer. 

 

Arthur nodded, throwing the rugby ball to Al effortlessly, but slammed into Alfred's body with a professionally concealed power behind it. Enough to even make the muscular American let out an 'oompf' with the impact. 

The three students packed up, quick enough for Alfred to just remain standing there gawking, and disappeared into the belt of trees towards the heart of the campus. 

Lovino, who had stayed silent during the whole ordeal, was abnormally calm. The last time Arthur had been injured, a paper cut, Lovino (or Romano) had cleared out the nurse's office with a lot of shouting and threatening of explicitly violent assault. It had taken an hour before Arthur was released, not without a full arm cast though and a body guard for a week.

Supposedly, Arthur did consider himself grateful he did not body drop the American student, but it did make him worried. Arthur pushed his slightly messy sandy hair away from his eyes to look at the Italian properly. Lovino, or Romano, was a 5,7' classic Italian, deep brown eyes with a tanned, golden complexion that many would kill for. Even Arthur could see why many pursued the Italian, but it was even more amusing to watch them be chased away by his terrifying demeanour and several hidden knives. Lovino self sabotaged many of his relationships, or purposely sabotaged them (Arthur was still unclear on that after the grenade instance) purely because he was damaged.

Roderick had left them earlier, and it was only then that Arthur noticed the reality of what just happened kick into Lovino's chocolate eyes. They snapped to his own, ablaze with urgency.

 

Moments later, Arthur found himself being physically carried by 6 unidentified Italian men towards the nurse's office, with the heavy voice of Lovino's military instructions laced with his trademark profanities of how to handle him carefully, if not, on pain of death over a large megaphone. 

England has learned not to question it anymore.

 

Meanwhile, Alfred stood in the field rolling the rugby ball in his calloused hands, overthinking everything and mentally punching himself for making such an awful first impression.

It's not as if they were in different classes, Alfred and Arthur have always been worlds apart, Arthur always seemed aloof, untouchable with an unexplainable elegance. Alfred was the class clown, (obnoxiously) loud, rugged and in his opinion, charming. Alfred partied, Arthur studied. They were, in University, considered a different species. But that didn't stop Alfred from observing Arthur in everything, mentally noting his achievements and little things about him, like how he swears that sugar should be forbidden from tea (it ruins the true flavour) or the time in the first year when he punched Francis in the face for trying to get him to strip. 

 

Okay, so a minor crush if you will. 

 

Francis and Antonio keep on insisting to Alfred that he is completely whipped over Arthur, it's not like the blue eyed American has ever gone out of his way to do something for Arthur, if he had then, (he tells himself), he would accept he had a slightly bigger crush on the feisty, short tempered Englishman. No, not at all. 

The first year thing doesn't count, his Arthur didn't want that guy's attention so why wouldn't Alfred help out by stalking the guy and beating him up in an alley? Isn't that what classmates are for? .... even if you have never spoken to them before, still it's the principle of being in the same class..... and then happened to blackmail the same guy a week later with financial bankruptcy and released his nudes to the whole school on social media.

Yes, completely natural.

Francis, being an old 'friend' of Arthur's (but as Arthur likes to put it, an awful mistake), has been trying to get the two to meet for months, but Al had always managed to avoid it, afraid of first impressions. Now that he had mucked the whole thing up, he was afraid he couldn't avoid it any longer if he wanted to have a chance, so he decided he would text the shady Frenchman later to set up a meeting between Arthur, himself and a few others. Anything to clean up this mess. 

 

Antonio shook Alfred out of his trance like state, taking the ball from the taller blond's hands, not failing to make a comment about Alfred's dreamy expression, followed by a wink and a nudge. No one noticed the way Antonio's grin had widened further than earlier, and a faint red mellowed his already tanned cheeks.


	3. The shady French Cupid

When Francis's caller ID had appeared on his outdated phone, Arthur deigned to just ignoring the manicured pest, continuing to stack the books on their allotted shelves, blocking out Lovino's stream of profanities centred around a certain popular Spaniard in his Agricultural history class, who had, unforgivably, questioned Lovino's taste in Tomatoes. 

As Arthur stretched out a hand his gaze examined it, noticing in his own temporary surprise it no longer had the indents earned after years of.... well, an old hobby that had consumed his life, and when it had ended, had crashed his entire world. Now, when he looked into the reflection of his eyes, he saw the shadow of pain, even after 3 years. Instead he would look away, it was foolish to let something to trivial to others absorb his life as it did, obsession wasn't in his nature. 

"Oi idiot, your phone is - nevermind it's that fuc-" Arthur blocked Lovino out again, until he heard the insistant calling stop. "What do you want you bastard?" Lovino actually picked up! It was a miracle, or just stupid, Arthur couldn't tell, instead cocked a eyebrow at Lovino's scowling face. 

The green eyed Englishman could hear the distinct accent of the womaniser, now getting off track and bragging about the newest girl he was dating. Lovino hung up mid rant and summarised the situation, his eyebrows furrowed more than usual. 

"What does the frog want now?" 

"The bastardo said that we have to meet him tonight at his dorm, -" Arthur's incredulous look showed just how much he was considering going to the pervert's dorm, "to go to a party -" the look became disgusted, "if we don't come he will pluck your eyebrows in your sleep and burn your books, the bastardo said he's done it before so you should know he's serious." Arthur's face twisted into the expression of someone who had clearly been traumatised. Lovino's explanation had been detached, giving him enough time to either spit, mumble curses in Italian regarding a certain promiscuous Frenchman or crumple his own face in disgust and bitterness. 

Both 2nd year students sighed in defeat. It was settled, they were going to their first University party.


	4. Planned coincidences

If Alfred had thought he was nervous when he had sent out the order to meet the Englishman, this was a slap in the face. He was standing on the doorstep of his own, and a certain long haired ‘frog’’s dorm surrounded by his rugby teammates waiting for the door to be opened and he already was debating flying back to America. Although this was his dorm, he almost lived with his friends, just because of the Frenchman’s constant flings.

An unintelligible question came from a teammate with a permenant plaster over his nose, a injury from Gilbert’s ‘MEGA AWESOME SUPER THROW’ in their first year of university, paired only with a pair of acidic green eyes. Alfred quickly responded with a, “TOTALLY dude! Let’s totally hyped, this is gunna be totally rad and —-“ the rest of his nerves rambled away with nonsensical yelling. 

Before Alfred knew what was happening he was in the dorm and the Frenchman was no where in sight, so much for the ‘ultimate Cupid’ Francis had claimed to be. 

A soft but angry tap on his shoulder managed to pull Alfred from sport conversations and into two pools of irritated green.

“Hey you’re the bloody moron that defied physics right?” Arthur’s permenant frown deepened at the thought of the incident. Now, Alfred on the other hand was too busy staring to notice the aura of irritation. Arthur was obviously dressed forcefully, usually radiating uncaring about his appearance, he had been forced into skinny jeans and, after a lot of negotiating, a large green jumper. Arthur’s messy golden hair reminded Alfred of the nightly library visits. The skinny jeans left little to the imagination. Alfred could only drool at the thought of touching them, or better, having them wrapped around his waist.

“Hey now dude, there weren’t that many trees in the way, and I said I was sorry.” Alfred stood his ground, despite inside wanting to just nod and agree with everything Arthur said like a smitten puppy, a slight pout was on his lips. 

Arthur huffed in reply, before looking over to the source of his troubles. It seems his Italian friend had been approached by a smiley Spaniard. Normally, Arthur would have warned the poor soul who seemed to be very openly flirting, but it looked like he had the entire thing under control. In fact it was almost freaky how in tune Antonio was with Romano. 

Romano, had in fact, during the conversation been called something along the lines of a ‘tomato’ by the Spaniard, this was when Arthur had noticed Antonio’s almost masterful dealing of Lovino. Romano had reached behind him for a battle axe, which had suspiciously been tucked in his bag. Instead of freaking out like Arthur had expected, the sunny Spain merely replied by claiming he had one very similar; and whilst detailing his own battle axe, had disarmed Romano expertly whilst upholding conversation and flirting. 

Arthur was astonished, just like Romano, who was now wishing he had brought more weapons. 

Even Arthur had to admit, the heartthrob of the school was clearly attractive. Alfred’s shirt was casual, but tight enough to show the training he underwent to play rugby for the school. Prided on his self control, Arthur found it harder and harder not to stare at his.... well everything. Alfred was hot. Sky blue eyes adorned a softly tanned skin tone from hours of practice and strong jawline. He reminded Arthur vaguely of a model from an expensive fashion magazine. Arthur interrupted his own line of thought, he knew Alfred was bi, (not that Alfred had dated any guys before, he had just announced it.) but that didn’t mean he, Arthur Kirkland, had a chance in hell. In fact, Alfred hadn’t dated anyone since even entering University, odd for one with hundreds of people wrapped around their fingers.

“So Arthur, dude, how long you plannin’ to stare?” Confidence, arrogance, whatever it was it made Arthur bristle. “Not for much longer.” The shorter one, both in height and temper, spun on his heel, completely ready to disappear back into the throng of drunk students when his arm was grabbed. It was firm, pressing and assertive.

“Hey little man, I was only kiddin’” Alfred held his hands up, but unseen to the other, had pinned him with an intense look. The idea of losing his chance with Arthur was abominable. Arthur was his, he sure as hell wasnt going to let anything ruin this. 

Arthur tipped his head back and glared, which only resulted in Alfred outwardly smirking, inwardly cooing. “You bloody jerk, I am not. Little.” Arthur’s annoyance was now palpable. 

“How tall are you then?” Alfred tilted his head in mock arrogance. He already knew the answer, of course he did, he had memorized Arthur’s height the same time he had memorized his blood type and family tree. 

Only a small crush, of course. 

Arthur answered quickly, a practiced answer of course. Only to begin to rant about being ‘average’ height for many countries, that Alfred just abnormally tall for his age, the sport’s fault apparently. 

 

Alfred followed this up by inquiring into his family’s height, under the pretense of wondering if Arthur’s height was inherited, joking lightly. Naturally, Alfred had darker motive behind this line of conversation, he began to fill in gaps in his knowledge about Arthur by provoking Arthur into answering by picking on subjects he knew would elicit a reaction out of the smaller bookworm.

 

Alfred, had been constantly told he was all brawn and no brains through life, almost had to applaud his own performance. It seems he was a strategic genius when it came to acquiring more information about his crush. 

Arthur hadn’t noticed at all, too busy trying not to stare at the million dollar smile and listen to the silky American accent too closely. 

It had been hours the two had been chatting, neither had noticed, too busy wrapped in their own conversation, focused entirely on each other, that the party was beginning to end. It had been Francis who broke the spell. He had glided over to the blondes, talking intensely to one another, with a dark haired girl on his arm. 

“Alfred! How has the party been?” Francis’s question did nothing to catch either of their attentions, too busy engaged in a furious debate over the most meaningless topic. “ALFRED!” Francis snapped, exhausted from hours of partying. 

Alfred’s head snapped around, glaring irritably at his roommate, who had interrupted his time with Arthur and his witty remarks. Arthur had finally noticed the reality of his situation, he had his back to the corner of the room, squished. There was little to no room between him and the star rugby player. Alfred and Arthur had been privately conversing, faces inches apart, leaving no hope for any third parties.

Alfred had subconsciously backed Arthur into a corner, guarding the Englishman jealously from the other party goers, hoarding his words similar to a dragon with gold. This, Arthur had not noticed, but still awkwardly coughed and slid out from the corner and beneath Alfred’s looming figure. He hurriedly called Francis a frog and swore never to go to another party before speed walking out of the almost empty dorm. 

Alfred had sighed, missing the contact already before himself slipping out of his own dorm and down to Antonio’s to fill his friend in on his time spent with England.

That night Arthur battled with himself over his fast developing crush on a certain handsome, boisterous and obnoxious blond, quickly resorting to denial. He just ignored the angry mutterings coming from his roommate that sounded suspiciously like he was smiling whilst saying them. Whilst Alfred explained to Antonio what had happened, Antonio daydreamed about the battle axe wielding tomato he insisted was adorable. Alfred didn’t know who this ‘tomato’ was that Antonio kept repeatedly talking about, he would have been more interested if he wasn’t too busy replaying the hours of conversation with Arthur in his head over and over. 

 

He knew what his next step was


	5. Persistence

For the next few weeks Alfred wormed into Arthur’s everyday life. At the start Arthur was skeptical, but the boy scout’s obnoxious announcements (‘Hey we’re best buddies now!’) and loud personality quickly distracted Arthur from questioning it. 

 

The golden boy of the school? Spending time with him? If he had been told this months ago, the hot tempered Englishman would have replied with ‘crazy poppycock’. Now, said golden boy, is sitting on the other side of the cheap dinner table demanding that Arthur should never look at his phone at dinner. That’s right, Alfred came over every night to have dinner with Arthur in a tiny dingy dorm room. At first when he began to question it, Alfred announced he’d be paying for all the meals ‘it’s just what best buddies do man.’ And carried on to snoop through Arthur’s belongings. 

Every morning Arthur somehow found the human Labrador at his side whilst walking to classes (sometimes in his dorm room as well????), bouncing up and down announcing ‘good morning!’ Over and over. By this time Arthur completely accepted Alfred’s invasion into his life. Dare he say, he almost enjoyed having Alfred around. 

 

“Bloody wanker it’s 6 in the morning, it’s not a ‘good’ morning it’s just a morning.” Arthur grumbled, “I don’t even have classes today. And neither do you.” This did nothing to stop Alfred from tearing off the duvet and ripping Arthur from his nice warm bed. 

Now Alfred felt a little bad at the hostile takeover he had played on Arthur’s life. He would have felt even worse if he didn’t get to see Arthur with bed head, now that was adorable and sexy. Alfred couldn’t help but drool at the thought of waking up to it everyday. Arthur in his bed, golden hair on the pillow next to his. Not to mention the amount of skin he’s been seeing, good God if Arthur slept shirtless he wouldn’t have been able to contain himself. 

“Your hero is saving you from the evil bed!” That was just met with profanities and vicious glaring.

Alfred takes the opportunity every time to really hold Arthur when he ‘ripped him from bed’. Sometimes he’d pull from the legs. Such soft skin. Sometimes from the waist. How perfect his waist is. Sometimes bridal style. This was his favourite, because he got to hug Arthur close to his chest, also sometimes when Arthur was in a better mood, he would put his arms around Alfred’s neck. 

“Yes but Artie! we have to go to the rugby field, my friends want to play.” Alfred pouted, widening his big blues. “Why can’t you go by yourself?” Arthur blindly opened his wardrobe, fumbling for clothing with his brain half asleep. Alfred leaned past him and selected the clothes for him.

He almost had to smirk, although Arthur still questioned such things, it was obvious he wasn’t actually opposing it (going by how he immediately went for clothes), it was only a matter of time before Arthur stopped questioning it completely and just accepted their now joint lives. 

Soon, it wouldn’t be long before Artie accepted his need for his other half. 

“Becaaaause, Romano’s going and Toni wants someone to entertain him without Romano running away.” Alfred explained patiently, an arm still slung over Artie’s narrow shoulders. 

“Romano?” Arthur quirked an eyebrow, intruiged that Romano would agree to something like that. 

Soon they were heading through the school towards the field. Alfred still had an arm slung over Arthur’s shoulders as they walked. This had happened many times, but Arthur hadn’t thought about it properly until now. Too busy fighting the heat threatening to rise to his porcelain face and the fluttering in his chest, he missed the possessive nature of the arm. Similar to marking his territory, Alfred found himself throwing subtle glares at those who he knew recognized Arthur’s angelic looks. Which was everyone passing. 

Yes, friends for now, but Alfred knew that wouldn’t satisfy him for long. Just the thought of anyone trying to get in between him and his Arthur was enough to make his blood boil, he pulled the smaller in closer to him, ignoring the soft insults at the move. 

 

Yes... friends for now.


End file.
